


Vinegar and Milk

by Hobbitrocious



Category: To the Ends of the Earth - All Media Types
Genre: 19th Century, Abduction, Flogging, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nudity, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Rope Bondage, Sexual Abuse, Slash, Spanking, Stalking, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitrocious/pseuds/Hobbitrocious
Summary: Lieutenant Deverel has gotten away with buggery at least once on this voyage, and he plans to do so again.(Set roughly in Ep 2, but I'm trying not to worry about the timeline too much. Watch for tags to be added with future chapters.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The product of too much caffeinated tea at bedtime and a first-time viewing of TtEotE. (Way late to the party, as always! *tips hat*) As soon as it was over I ran a quick search to see how much TalbVerel slash there must surely be, what with Jack constantly staring like Edmund's the most succulent bit of tenderloin ever to grace a plate, and was totally appalled to find THERE WAS NONE. D:
> 
> TW: noncon with sadomasochistic elements.
> 
> Hot-off-the-press, feel free to flog me for typos.

_What a horrid man that Deverel is_ , thought Edmund to himself, quite often, after he learned the most he ever would regarding the poor parson's moral demise.  
  
An unashamed buggerer right in the crew's midst was, Edmund admitted, a thing he was only partly surprised to discover in such a desperate environment, and among quite coarse men whose already questionable upbringings surely made susceptible to the corruptions of the strange peoples they encountered abroad.  
  
But to exert such a vice on a parson!  
  
If Jack Deverel were indeed as guilty as he intimated himself to be, it was little wonder his need for drunkenness at all hours was so strong. Edmund hoped this was at least a sign that the man knew shame.  
  
Or perhaps the drink had contributed to the problem?  
  
_Bah_. The young man had no wish to know the distinction.  
  
But, then, when he looked along the deck, there was Deverel himself staring at him again, the officer's eyes with a dark shine to them that must surely have been a part of the ongoing alcoholism, and not a show of illicit carnal hunger such as Edmund's mind frightened him, in some moments, to believe it was.  
  
Edmund subtly angled his body away and fixed his gaze upon the sea.  
  
A single moment, as Deverel passed behind him, made Edmund feel like a spindly-legged fawn staring down the barrel of a gun: A wave, quite small compared to what they'd seen thus far, pitched the ship to the side on which Edmund stood, and the clatter of Deverel's unsteady boots stumbling up behind were his only warning before a large, warm hand had a beastly firm grip on Edmund's right buttock and another on his left hip.  
  
Edmund's scandalised gasp, breathless as it was, was audible only to himself, roared over by the steady crush of water lapping the ship.  
  
Deverel groped him only a second; no longer than he might ostensibly need to regain his footing.  
  
Long enough, though, to send a message.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir, I do not take kindly to you stalking me throughout the ship," Edmund turned and called petulantly up the stairway to Lieutenant Deverel only a half-dozen paces behind.  
  
"Stalking?" chuckled Deverel, descending and catching up with decidedly leisurely hesitation. "I am certainly not stalking you, sir. You must by now know the few pathways there are to take, and how often we sailors must take them."  
  
"I am _quite_ sure that, before the regrettable events of these past few weeks, our paths did not cross nearly so often."  
  
"Is that so?" Deverel feigned surprise.  
  
"You have changed your habits," Edmund declared.  
  
Deverel shifted his weight and sniffed derisively, "So what if I have."  
  
Edmund was about to deliver a hot retort when Deverel's entire manner softened and he interjected, sounding genuinely apologetic, "Please, if you would walk with me, Mr. Talbot, I ask that you hear me out in private and understand my mind. As you are finding out, there are matters which cannot be discussed in such proximity to the passengers nor the servants."  
  
"Ah... ah, um..." Edmund stammered, completely baffled by this non-combative turn. "I... suppose I do take your meaning, Lieutenant. That which I have heard and seen of late has troubled me, as well you know, and even with those who were most highly involved I am frustrated to be unable to revisit the intricacies of the so-called justice decided."  
  
"Shh!" Deverel interrupted, his eyes quickly scanned the surrounding shadows of the passenger deck for interlopers.  
  
Edmund realised his error, so many cabins being within earshot, and blushed. How stupid of him.  
  
Deverel jerked his head to motion to the lower work decks, whispering, "Some place private. Come on."  
  
"Yes," Edmund agreed, following him below with an inexplicable dread in the pit of his stomach. "Yes, of course."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oof. What is this room?" Edmund asked once Deverel had shut them up in a cramped, dim compartment on the third interior deck, lowest above the waterline.  
  
"It is a storeroom," Deverel answered as he lit a lantern and hung it from a ring in the ceiling, "one of the many built in when she was converted, I am told. It was filled to the top when we left port, and the first to be empty."  
  
"Oh, I see," Edmund took in the stark, empty space. All the room contained now was a pair of beaten-up crates in a back corner, under a rough blanket, and the odd anchoring ring hung here and there. "How many have we emptied so far?"  
  
Smiling congenially at Edmund's innocent curiosity, Deverel answered, "Just two and a half. We're well supplied to see us through the Doldrums."  
  
Then, speaking more seriously, he explained, "The men like me well enough to grant me a surplus space as my own, even if the captain does not."  
  
"Yes, well, the captain is a man of particulars in his company, I have observed," Edmund tried to excuse politely.  
  
"Your way of saying it's a grudge, plain and simple?" Deverel joked.  
  
"No! I... Well, yes, I suppose."   
  
There was really no way around that, regardless what dislike the Lieutenant may have honestly earned through his actions. Captain Anderson hadn't been partial to him at all, even before the Neptunian ceremony and what followed.  
  
"Hmpf. Well, as I said, the respect of the lads is good enough for me. It appears they've continued to do well by me..." Jack, bent in the corner, dug through the crates and produced a rum bottle and a tin cup. He continued, as he poured a draught, "I find my stash exactly as I left it, every time."  
  
He handed the cup to Edmund.  
  
"Please, drink first. I have only the one cup down here. I must remember to bring down another for my visitors."  
  
"Ah. Thank you." Edmund accepted the small cup and lifted it in a gentle salute before downing the harsh liquid in one go. His coughing was considerably less than it had been with his first taste of the spirit.  
  
Smirking wryly at him, Deverel re-corked the bottle.  
  
Edmund frowned. "Are you not having any?"   
  
The lieutenant stood silent, merely watching.  
  
"I say," Edmund wiped at his lip, stumbling back into the wall with the rocking of the deck, "this rum isn't the same as the men shared with me before. This one tastes of the paregoric Wheeler gave--"  
  
 _Oh, no. Good God, no._  
  
A hiccup, then a short struggle to keep his vision straight - _was the room moving, or was he?_ \- and within a minute Edmund Talbot slumped to the floor, unconscious.

 


End file.
